


Ayurnamat

by becausenobreeches (crucibulis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucibulis/pseuds/becausenobreeches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr drabble.  Ayurnamat - The philosophy that there is no point in worrying about events that cannot be changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ayurnamat

“What are you doing?”

Cullen looked up from his stack of reports to see Dorian standing in the frame of the north door, hands on his hips as his hair fluttered slightly with the wind from outside. Cullen straightened his back, letting out a small groan as he felt something pop. “Working?” he replied, unsure if that was the correct answer, what with the stormy look on Dorian’s face.

Dorian stepped inside and swung the door shut behind him. “The Inquisitor is gravely injured, and you’re doing paperwork?!” he demanded.

Cullen sighed. “What would you like me to be doing?” he argued, throwing up his hands. “I’m not a healer, obviously, I can’t assist in any way–”

“Well, it seems to me that you’re not even properly concerned!” Dorian accused with a sharp shrug, arms wrapped around himself in a defensive hug.

Unsure of what to say, Cullen barely shrugged in return. “And would that save her?” he asked quietly.

The wind outside whistled defiantly as it blew against Cullen’s tower, filling the cracks in the stone and the heavy silence within. When Dorian finally spoke, he was quieter, as if he didn’t want to disturb the howling song. “It would be a show of solidarity for you to be losing your mind with the rest of us,” he joked in a humorless hiss, taking a step closer to Cullen, and then another, until only the desk was between them.

“It’s in the Maker’s hands now,” Cullen reminded him. “There’s no point in being beside myself with worry over something I have no control over.” The way Dorian’s brow twisted into a perplexed arch told him he wasn’t making things better, and he turned his eyes to his paperwork, just needing somewhere else to look besides his lover’s intense gaze. “Besides, even if she lives, Adaar will be in recovery for some time, and someone in the leadership will have to keep their wits about them.”

Dorian huffed out a sigh. “I just don’t understand how you can even concentrate at a time like this,” he grumbled.

Cullen gave him a small smile, seeing behind Dorian’s irritation to his need for reassurance. “It’s just a part of being a soldier, love. You have to endure, even in the worst situation,” he explained. “And we all have our way of coping with things,” he admitted. “You break into the wine cellar or start yelling at people… and I bury myself in reports.”

Dorian’s expression slowly brightened at that. “So you _are_ worried,” he asserted, pointing a finger.

“I never said I wasn’t, I just said there wasn’t any point –”

“Uh huh,” Dorian replied with a roll of his eyes, rushing around the desk to pull Cullen into a soft press of lips that had too much of a self-satisfied smile in it to be a true kiss.

Dorian tried to pull away, no doubt with some clever quip on the tip of his tongue, but Cullen wrapped an arm around the small of his back and pulled Dorian against him, hugging him close as he nuzzled his nose into Dorian’s dark, slightly chilly hair. The mage was stiff at first, trembling a little with excitement and cold, but relaxed into his arms after a few moments, letting Cullen pull him closer until Dorian was only connected to the ground by his toes.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Cullen murmured, squeezing Dorian even tighter when he heard a ragged sigh in his ear. “We’ll be okay,” he promised, and held on until both of them started to believe it was true.


End file.
